Sunday, August 27, 2006

I've decided that Pastrami on Rye is located at the center of the universe. It links us all in a karmic and cosmic beautiful way that can only be deciphered by a higher power named Yahweh, or possibly 100 typing monkeys that have already finished with Hamlet. Or me in this blog.

And the that elusive center of the universe where this Pastrami on Rye is located? : Canter's Deli.

Cheryl and I decided to gain 10 pounds so we moseyed on over in the evening to have our self declared 'Honorary-Jew' standby: Egg Cream, Pastrami on Rye, and a Black & White cookie.

I was going to swing by the Museum of Tolerance first to make it a 'Jewish' afternoon, but after seeing a special on the SS in the morning on the History Channel, I had had enough of the holocaust for one day. It's a downer. And probably not what the Jews would hope you'd remember most about their culture. I personally remember them for Pastrami on Ryes...so I'm not very tolerant, obviously. I told Cheryl it really wasn't worth blogging about this day unless I had the whole 'theme' thing going...but she reminded me the night is young, and a theme might still arise.

So we noshed on our sandwiches, and tried really hard not to stare at Natalie Portman at the table next to us.

Cheryl's new haircut looks good, so we spent a good 30 minutes dissecting why she still didn't like it, followed by more non-staring at Natalie Portman. As always at Canters, the wait staff is neglectful and snobby without reason...that new Burger King Pastrami Burger commercial filmed there is pretty accurate. Snobby waitresses don't make for good theme either.

Afterwards, we walked down Melrose, sat in chipped old chairs to read The Onion, and sip Coffee Bean frappucinno-esque beverages. The highlight of the walk was the searching for bathrooms like Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Forbidden Bidet. Who ever heard of a coffee shop with no restroom? And dagummit - no theme yet.

Next came the drinks portion of the evening (here she is...the drinks portion of the evening (to the tune of miss america)) at the Formosa. We spoke of a 'sheet cycle'...meaning how long your sheets are good for...like is it ok to sleep on dirty sheets, and can you invite your significant other to sleep on your dirty sheets, and what if you've been having 'fun' by yourself on those sheets...is that gross, or since the fluids are the same, does it really matter? We've created a detailed manifesto on sheet manners if you care to read it. Alas, no theme there either. Is it possible these random events are truly random?

Dirty sheets are the kind of things we talk about when the waitress serves gin and tonics with the consistency of lighter fluid. And my maitai was straight rum with a cherry. Not my typical mai tai...then again, this isn't the typical joint. I believe the Formosa was cool at one point. It is no longer. There are no actual celebrities inside. Canter's already had it beat with Miss Portman.

So, there you go. That's the end of the evening... and I have no theme, but I do have the six degrees of Pastrami on Rye.

Next week, the International Astronomical Union (the godfather of planets) is voting to see if hyped-up Pluto should remain a planet, and if 2003 UB313, the farthest-known object in the solar system and nicknamed Xena; Pluto's largest moon, Charon; and the asteroid Ceres, which was a planet in the 1800s before it was demoted; should be bumped back up.

They're taking a vote on August 24, my birthday, so I feel very tied into this event. It's not often that our universe expands like this. Oh wait...our universe is expanding all the time. Damn my physics education! It makes a mockery of non-universal events like this.

Right now, in Prague...the union is hammering out a definition of a planet...that's expected to take a until next week. then there's also a discussion of a new category: "plutons," referring to Pluto-like objects that reside in the Kuiper Belt, a mysterious, disc-shaped zone beyond Neptune containing thousands of comets and planetary objects. Pluto itself and two of the potential newcomers -- Charon and 2003 UB313 -- would be plutons under this scenario.

If the resolution is approved, and all are classified planets: the 12 planets in our solar system listed in order of their proximity to the sun would be Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Ceres, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto, Charon, and the provisionally named 2003 UB313. Per CNN, "Its discoverer, Michael Brown of the California Institute of Technology, nicknamed it Xena after the warrior princess of TV fame, but it likely would be re-christened something else later, the panel said." Really, I don't see why Xena: Warrior planet is a terrible name. It's gay, but not too bad. She's not a wuss. And symbolic as the first lesbian planet in space. Aren't we progressive enough for that? Who says astronomers have no sense of humor?

Mike Brown (discoverer) actually opposes the new definition—even though it would make his discovery officially a planet. He calls the proposed definition "leave no ice ball behind," an approach that's flawed, he said, because it will include far too many objects—53 and counting, he figures. "I'd be sad to miss the chance to have discovered the tenth planet," Brown wrote in a statement. "But I'd get over it." A lovely sentiment by a true warrior prince.

In my old age I don't think I'll be able to remember the new planets. Maybe...Xena is hard to forget, Ceres is juice, and Charon is my mom...so perhaps I can make this work. I don't know what the hell the rest of you are going to do to remember it. But all in all, I'd prefer we don't change them. I spent a lot of time on that styrofoam mobile of the solar system, and if I have to paint 3 more balls, I'm going to be mighty pissed. Even if I get to glue photos of Lucy Lawless to one.

When we find the next planet, I propose we name it Jean-Luc Picard. Someone's got to keep Xena in check.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

As Tracy so happily informed me last night..."Hey your little Mac muffin is in a movie."

Yes, Justin Long...henceforth known as 'my little Mac muffin' from the Macintosh commercials, is in 'Accepted', which came out last week. I have not seen it yet. I'm waiting for the audiences to lessen. I think my matinee moaning would disturb the kiddies.

In the meantime, I get to report that Mac Muffin is joining Bruce Willis for the fourth film in the 'Die Hard' series, 'Die Hard: Reset' starting shooting next month. The storyline for the fourth film finds John McClane (Willis) coming out of retirement to battle an internet terrorist group that plans to demolish the world's technological infrastructure. My Mac Muffin will be playing a recently paroled computer expert who helps John McClane (Willis) take down cyber terrorists. In one version of the script, Mac Muffin was supposed to be McClane’s grown-up son, John Jr, but it’s unclear whether he still is, in the latest incarnation of the script.

Off to see Accepted. I'll try not to fall asleep right after, in case he wants to cuddle.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

So, I finally succumbed to the oddity that is myspace. You may check me out here.

Myspace is really not user-friendly, so in the massive amount of time it took me to figure it out, I was imagining dumb teenage jocks making super-cool sites while I'm scratching my head, putting on my bifocals and drinking metamucil. I've mastered the theory of relativity faster. I got a spiffy slide show up at least, and some friends - let me tell you, it's really depressing to see TOM: the founder, as your only friend. Although Tom is probably more tech savvy and owns more yachts than my real friends. I had to have at least 10 'friends' before I'd stop asking people to join my group. However, now that my profile is up - I don't really know what there is to DO. It's like sitting in a bar where there are no drinks, and nobody will talk to you, and you're blindfolded and deaf. Bad analogy, I know...but it's the best I could think of.

It seems to be a breeding ground (and I use that phrase specifically) for weirdoes looking to get laid, full of ripe stupid high school students with a lot of time on their hands. The concept is great, it's the actual people online that I have a problem with. Does that make me a mysnob? It seems to be humanity in the raw. The cross section of people you see at the airport, not the cross section from your local Barnes and Noble. And much like humanity at the airport, it seems to be the 'bitter-angry-crying-seething' mass, not the 'wow!-we're going to grandmas!' cross section.

I freely admit I don't 'get it'. It's a free personal web page builder, but without any real means to connect save randomly. If I wanted to connect randomly, I could go out to a bar and talk to the person next to me. Which is basically what myspace is...it's an internet bar for teenagers. It's a meaningless sub-division of the web. It's the suburbs for kids too scared to actually post their own site in the big city. It's a clique. So in a way, it's really is like high school all over again. Oh my god, did you see Stephanie's hair today? It's so 1988.

And it only took me 48 hours to see the myspace cliches. The horrible eye-searing page designs. The 'I took a photo of myself at arms length' photo. The 'I like everything!' comment under music likes. The bands and porn stars on your 'friend' list - yeah, like you really know Jenna Jameson. The stupid bulletins on meaningless things- unless you plan on jumping out a window, I'd prefer to not know the minutiae of your life. And really sappy love songs - I wouldn't have that on my profile - why does the 35 year old construction worker?

Fortunately for me, I'm so lazy that I'll probably never go back to log in and see what's there. I mean, my real friends would e-mail me directly through my blog or standard e-mail, right? I feel pretty ridiculous going back to myspace to check and see if some non-friends wrote me! Unless they're hot guy non-friends. Ok, fine... I'll check it hourly.

Despite all my complaining, I managed to find quite a lot of my 'real life' friends on it, and they're certainly not 'ripe stupid high school students'...but clearly they still have a lot of time on their hands. Are they victims of the craze, or do they actually get something out of it that I don't? Who knows? But I don't feel like sticking around Lord of the Flies-ville to find out.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Sad to say, I decided to check out the Yahoo personals online. Men in my life (friends or otherwise) are in short supply recently, and it doesn't hurt to see who is out there, right? Yes, it does. It HURTS.

People, the following are ACTUAL headlines from local men in my age range from Yahoo personals. I did not typo correct, or change them in any way. And it only took me about 10 minutes to compile all these winners.

Santana Fan Seeks Same - Ok, it's good to be specific, but is this your deal-breaker?

Moms perfer Tyler - Are you attempting to appeal to my MOTHER? Fundamentally, no woman wants a man her mother would choose. Bad option. Regardless, my mother knows better than to pick men who can't spell. Admit what you want. - I'm already feeling pressured to NOT like you.

magical, love to cock and entertain. - SERIOUSLY BAD TYPO...or is it?

Music Man seeks inspiration - He's a what? He's a what? He's a music man and he sells clarinets to the kids in the town with the big trombones and the rat-a-tat drums, big brass bass, big brass bass, and the piccolo, the piccolo with uniforms too, with a shiny gold braid on the coat and a big red stripe...Raconteur ruminating for Dialectician - I had to look up 3 of these words. I won't tell you which three.

Be hotter than me but less smart. - Strangely, I don't think that will be hard.

I just don't get it! - I don't get why you'd choose that either.

I get it! - Really? Because I still don't.

First Personal ad - Ironically this is someone I saw years ago on Match.com! Your nose is growing. You may already have won 1,000,000. - Can I buy someone better?

Yes, it was I who let the dogs out. - Was it Benji? Because Benji was cute, and I miss him!

My mouth is numb right now. - If this is a quote from a movie, will someone please let me know?I'm sorry what? I didn't hear you. - Good sign for a budding quality relationship. Nice guy...sometimes. - Pretty girl... sometimes. Write me, or I will eat this baby. - Yes, there was a baby in the photo. No, that doesn't make it a better line.

HEY! - ...you guys? I'll take Electric Company for 500 Alex.

Training to be a cage fighter, ha ha - Too bad the ha ha ruined it. Elvis and Lucifer - Together at last! - I had to include this one from my friend Bill. It's very accurate. That should make you more scared of all the rest above.

So get out there, girls!! You guys have fun...I changed my mind - it's GOOD to be single.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

For those of you who don't know (men), an elliptical is like a stationary bike, but you stand and it has punching arms handles in front.

Instead of going to a gym, I have one at home for a myriad of reasons. One is that I tend to work out in as little as possible, and sometimes that flys, and sometimes I just can't go out into public wearing hot pants and a ripped t-shirt that says 'New York Fuckin' City'. Also, I have to shower IMMEDIATELY after working out...yes, I am OCD, but there it is. And usually I just 'roll' with my legs, but punch arms at imaginary foes like Patrick Swayze in Road House. Or do arm signal flags spelling out 'I-M-W-O-R-K-I-N-G-O-U-T." My personal favorite arm workout is 17 year old cheerleading moves. I forget triple intergrals, but I remember the timing of a routine I learned when I was 15 to Salt N Pepa.

So I'm in the middle of spelling out "I-H-A-T-E-T-H-E-E-L-L-I-P-T-I-C-A-L" with my arms when the lyric of the random song I'm listening to finally registers...

Downtown's been caught by the hysteriaPeople scream and shoutA generation's on the moveWhen disco spreads like bacteria

What a terrible lyric! Who wrote this song? Why would you ever equate Disco with a bacteria? It's not like it's annoying or anything. The golden yearsThe silver tearsYou wore a tie like Richard Gere

What did Richard Gere have to do with Disco? And in what movie? Did I miss the Saturday Night Fever remake?

Now I'm thinking of Richard Gere wearing a tie, and what tie did he wear that was so iconic?

Then I'm wondering how come I can't remember any Richard Gere movies except Pretty Woman and American Gigolo.

Then I think maybe he didn't DO any other movies after Pretty Woman and American Gigolo...

Then I start thinking of Gigolos, and men in suits, men of the 80s...

Armani suits walking into 80's movies...

And then back comes the image of Patrick Swayze from Road House and Richard Gere dancing together in Dirty Dancing both wearing Armani.

"Nobody puts Richard Gere in a corner!"

Then I remember telling an old friend of mine "You're like Richard Gere but without the religious conviction"

And he replied "but with the gerbil"

And then all I can think about is gerbils.

And suddenly in the middle of the Salt N Pepa routine I start laughing hysterically and land flat on my butt with an Ipod bud up my nose.

It could have been worse. It could have been taped. Or I could have been the gerbil.

Friday, August 04, 2006

This band is genius. This video is genius. This song is genius. I defy anyone to say otherwise.

Watch until the end for the slo-mo bit.

OK Go held a contest for their fans to re-create this video...I SO wish I had friends that would embarass themselves like that with me!

My only caveat is that I get to to be the lead singer, of course. Because I'm basically Sting, and might do better without the rest of you Police. Of course I will. That's it - only 30 seconds and I've had enough of your nay-saying! The band is broken up! We'll get together in Central Park for a concert in 10 years. It was a good run while it lasted.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Wow. I really didn't expect it to be so heavy! Thank you Jack. To get this award from Jack Nicholson means so much.

I'd like to thank the Academy. Also my co-star, Matthew Fox, and my director Ang Lee...they were both such an inspiration. Miramax, of course. And my agent, Ari Gold. My husband Rick, little Cody and Jimmy who are watching at home - go to bed, kids!

I also need to thank Ben Affleck, who inspired me to become a writer just to prove I can write better than he and Damon can. Bill Shatner, Chris Walken (thanks for the donuts, man!), Lindsay Lohan, Justin Long, Bob Saget and of course, George Clooney. I have to thank John for refusing to be my friend over an inflammatory post... it made me a stronger person. Robert Redford for his determination and for believing in me. Screw the music, I'm still talking! I'd like to thank my next door neighbor when I was six, and Cheryl Klein for introducing me to blogging, and my cats. And Al Gore. And Genghis Khan. And my agent, did I say that already? I have to thank my mom and dad for reading all the posts, even the ones that mentioned sex. And of course, the higher power, the supreme being, the one who makes everything possible: Tom Cruise.

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Why you ask? Was it my secret 'I want to be just like her despite the partying and lack of morals' platonic Lindsay Lohan crush? Ok, kind of. But not mainly...was it my secret fondness for Dean Jones of the original Herbie movies? ok, kind of. And Buddy Hackett is amazing. But not mainly...MAINLY it was my secret love crush on this kid in the picture. Justin Long. I will watch anything he's in. Yeah, yeah...he's the kid from the Mac vs PC commercials. I say kid because he's younger than me, but he's 28 which puts him in my 'totally acceptable from my father's standpoint' range...which is 25-55, just in case you're wondering.

But despite the drooling over Justin, and the G-rated boring nature of the movie, I was surprised to find that I was smiling throughout. It was love, pure and simple, and I got it. It's hard to explain, but somehow it brought back memories of very simple feelings, those feelings of hope and happiness...something I rarely get from romantic movies anymore. I can compare 'Herbie' to 'Under the Tuscan Sun' which I also just saw...a romantic movie about burned hearts, healing and starting over. Romance for women. A chick flick, if you will. Also with a cute guy in the end, but somehow it missed the target of romance for me. It made me sad to think of someone I used to love, yes, and how he hurt me, but despite the realistic Diane Lane character having a broken heart, I look at someone falling in love in rural Tuscany and think 'yeah right' and just don't see it happening. Dean Martin, Fellini, all types of romance represented in that film that make me say 'eh...whatever.' If you ask me if I believe in love like that...well, I just don't. It's too unreal to imagine.

However, put me into a magical '63 VW bug, and suddenly I buy it. Somehow love is possible during a repair montage, and Herbie bounces us so that we fall on each other and have that 'wow - I could love you' moment. When getting each other soaked while washing cars is the epitome of romance, and 'Walking on Sunshine' by Katrina and the Waves is the soundtrack! (see car wash shot below.) When a 28 year old geeky mechanic is far more appealing than a 38 year old hot writer. It's magic! And magical love makes sense to me! It must be the Disney brainwashing I received as a child, but I can believe in that kind of romance. I can see how Herbie is love.

But really, have I been set up for the impossible? The 'guy who's always been in love with you, you just didn't see it' cliche? Does that 'win the race, kiss, and realize it's an 'I love you' kiss' moment ever happen to anyone in real life? It seems like a setup. A Disney setup. Where the handsome men are always evil, and it's the geeky kid from your past who ends up with your heart. It's unrealistic, and yet seems more plausible than anything else I've seen or could consider. It seems more plausible than the cliche of love, and romance. Herbie door-kicking the shy guy into an embrace with the woman he's always loved, just couldn't say it...that's magic. That's true love.

So how is it that I can buy magic, just not the romance? I can buy the kiss, but not the 'love affair'? Maybe it's a broken heart gone bad...I long for the days when romance was just palling around with your best bud washing a car, and it ends in a kiss. Once heartache damages you, you can't go back to those days, and they become more important than any sort of real relationship you might have. Or maybe it's because love only appears when we forget ourselves. When we get out of the drudgery and into the magic. Love becomes a dream, a Disney dream of simplicity. Maybe that's not love to anyone but me, but I don't think all those Disney movies can be wrong. Can they?

I'm going to call Justin so we can wash our cars together, and we'll just see how things go...